Luck
by dart53
Summary: The world spun and turned around him and then, with a grinding of metal, everything went black.


The world spun and turned around him and then, with a grinding of metal, everything went black.

g

The first thing he was aware of was his own breathing. He could hear himself doing it, and it hurt. But that was okay because it meant he was alive…something he hadn't been too sure of. The next thing that happened was that the hurt he felt when he took a breath seemed to expand and reach out to every corner of his body, at least for a moment. He stiffened in response to the pain and found out that wasn't a very smart thing to do. The groan that escaped resulted in a rustle of cloth and a snap that brought light tinged red by his closed lids.

"Come on… It's time you were awake."

The voice was soft and enticing and the words were English which gave him another bit of information. They'd made it back… or at least he had. His eyes opened at the prospect that he was the only one and the unadulterated light brought an unbelievable headache with it.

A shadow fell over his face as the person who wielded that soft, enticing, voice leaned over him.

"Take it slow," she advised.

"Where…" he started.

"We've got you at the hospital in London." There was smile to accompany her next words. "You should recognize the place; I hear you've been here often enough."

He risked a look around the room and found he was the only occupant. They'd been together, Garrison was sure of that; coming back from a job. He was used to opening his eyes to find one of his men sitting nearby; watching over him just like he did when it was one of them that was injured. His throat constricted and his mouth went dry as a reason for their absence assaulted his mind.

"Am I…," he started. "Was I the only…"

"It's all right." She said quietly. "All of you made it." She took a cloth out of a basin and twisted the water out of it before patting it down over his throbbing forehead and blocked his attempt at dislodging it

"Where are they?" he asked as he tried to prop himself up on his elbow.

"Take it easy. You're all right."

"But they aren't!" He managed to get a heel hooked under the side of the bed and used the leverage to overpower her attempt to block him from sitting up. He swayed as he perched on the edge of the mattress; every muscle and joint protesting his efforts.

She'd been warned by the ones who had more experience; she was ready for this reaction and already had the orders on how to deal with it.

"Now settle down…" She cautiously laid a hand on his shoulder. "The doctor said he'd probably let me take you to them once he checked you out. You just sit tight there and I'll go get him."

g

He was leaning up against the headboard of the bed when the doctor walked in. Perspiration beaded across his forehead and he held his eyes closed against the dizziness.

"Tried to stand up," the doctor said. "Didn't you?"

He decided not to admit how badly his little experiment had worked out. He didn't recognize this man's voice. "Where's Phillips?"

"On a forty-eight hour pass." The strange doctor gave a snort. "He gets one once a year, it's in his contract." He put his hand on his patient's shoulder. "Here, sit up and open your eyes so I can get a look at you."

Pushing off the frame of the bed he did his best to sit up straight…none of his muscles appreciated that and he had to brace himself by gripping the sides of the mattress with his right hand. His joints didn't seem too pleased with him either. Garrison sat there for a moment and waited for the roller coaster to come to a stop, and then he opened his eyes…almost. The light caused his headache to spike and his eyes squinted closed all on their own.

"How's the head?" The doctor asked, right before he thumbed a penlight on and made everything worse.

"Still attached," he managed to grit out between clenched teeth.

"That's good."

"I'm not so sure about that."

The man of mercy laughed. "Lean forward," he ordered, and then he applied a chunk of ice to his skin.

"That's cold!"

"It's supposed to be." The doctor took the thing off his skin just long enough for it to chill down again before moving it to a new location. "If it was warm it would take half the fun out of my job." The man stepped back. "Alright why don't you give standing up another try?"

Now that he had permission Craig wasn't too sure he wanted to comply but military training, and natural stubbornness, took over and he slid off the bed onto his feet. The doctor had to put a hand out to steady him.

"I can manage," he told the man as he pulled away from the support and promptly landed back on the bed.

"Yes," the doctor said with a touch of amusement. "I can see that. Now let that be a lesson to you." He took out a small rubber hammer and started tapping tendons and grunting at the responses he got. He ended up dropping onto his haunches and wrapping a hand around his patient's bare foot. "Pull up," he ordered. "Now press down. Good. Now the other one." Groaning as he pushed up to stand straight again he asked, "So how do you actually feel? And don't forget, I've already x-rayed and examined you."

"I feel like I'm onboard a ship in lousy weather." Deflecting another question from the doctor with one of his own he asked, "What about my guys?"

"Oh, like you mostly. A lot of bruises and sprains, a couple of mild concussions, some busted ribs, a broken ankle…,"

"How bad?" he interrupted.

"Simple fracture of the distal shaft of the fibula," the doctor reported. "No joint surfaces involved. Should heal up just fine." He watched the relief wash across the patient's face before he added, "… and a busted nose"

Garrison stiffened at that. "Whose nose?"

"The one you call Casino."

He breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed a little. Not that he wished a broken nose on Casino, but Casino could handle it; in his neighborhood it might even be looked on as a badge of honor…. But a broken nose might just kill Actor.

"Back to you," the medic said. "You broke some ribs and busted your clavicle. You sprained both your wrists and I wouldn't trust that left knee of yours on a very long walk. You are one of the concussions, no sign of a skull fracture but your inner ear is messed up and you can expect to be dizzy for a while. Cartwheeling a plane down a runway on landing will do that to you." He suppressed a shudder as he remembered reading the report of the crash. The plane had broken up on landing. But then that was probably the reason all these men were still alive. The wings with their fuel tanks separated on contact and burned out safely away from the broken fuselage where the passengers were trapped.

"The pilot? What about…"

"According to the people who plucked you guys out of the wreckage miracles still happen. He busted his back but he's still alive."

"He's not paralyzed?…"

"No. A couple of vertebrae are crushed though." The doctor scratched at his chin. "He was coming up on his last mission and getting a little hinky about his luck. He's more than willing to trade those busted bones in for a ticket home." Pocketing the stethoscope he put his hand out to help his patient back into bed. "All right that's enough for now. Back to bed with you." But the man resisted with a surprising amount of strength.

"The nurse said I could see my men after you checked me out."

He'd been roped in for the duration and was really a civilian at heart regardless of the oak leaves the Army had pinned on him. Right now he was caught in a career officer's stare and he responded just like any raw recruit. "I'll get her for you."

"Don't bother; just show me where they are," he said as he slipped off the bed and onto his feet. His confused inner ear made it known rather quickly that he wasn't really going to be the one making the decision on how he got around.

The doctor reached out to keep the young man from falling and then helped him back on the bed. "I'll send the nurse for you; with a wheelchair. If you don't ride, you don't go," he told him as the authority that went with his medical training took over.

g

He leaned back against the head of the bed as he waited and thought about how lucky they'd been. First they'd gotten through the mission without any trouble. Then the underground had been more than happy to provide transportation so they hadn't had to hike out on foot, which would have taken several days and put them at significant risk of being discovered. And, once they reached the Allies in Italy, they were able to catch a small transport plane back to England… That was probably their biggest stroke of luck. It meant they were in passenger seats complete with safety belts when the plane crashed instead of being tossed around the inside of a cargo bay or the belly of a bomber.

g

The door to the room opened and the nurse stepped in, her shoe squeaked on the floor a little as she walked. Rolling the chair up to the bedside she smiled and held up a robe for him. "You ready for your visit?"

He slipped his good arm in the sleeve and let her drape the robe over him but he couldn't manage to stand long enough for her to tie the belt. "Sorry," he said as she pulled the fabric out from under him, crossed it over his chest and legs and then tied it shut.

"That's all right," she said with a smile. "At least you landed in the chair instead of on the floor!" She produced a knitted slipper from her pocket and popped it over his bare right foot. Reaching into the other pocket she pulled out a match.

He tried to lift that leg and stick the foot out so she wouldn't have to bend over again but that was the side with the bad knee and he didn't get the foot very far off the footrest of the wheelchair. "Sorry for all the trouble," he said again. "You shouldn't have to do that."

She laughed as she straightened up and walked around behind him. "'_That_' is what they pay me for Lieutenant and if you weren't causing me a little '_trouble_' I would be out of work."

He returned her smile as she pulled him backwards through the door and into the hall. "I think, in your line, you won't ever be out of work." And his smile dimmed a little as he added, "Especially now."

She chose to keep the conversation light and replied with laughter as they made their way along. "Well that's what my mother always told me. 'Go in to nursing,' she said. 'You'll always have a job.'" She turned the knob on the door next to her and then swung him around and pulled him backwards through it into a dimly lit room. "Here we are, Lieutenant." She said softly.

g

He sat a moment waiting for his eyes adjust and his sense of equilibrium settle. When he leaned forward to rise she simply placed her hand on his shoulder and rolled the wheelchair in that direction until he was sitting next to the first bed.

Casino's nose was packed and taped and he was sporting two black eyes. Breathing through his mouth was causing a soft snore; but he seemed to be breathing easily enough. Garrison shifted in the chair and glanced back at the young woman who leaned forward and quietly reported on his man's condition. When she finished she moved on to the second bed.

Goniff's face was peppered with small scabs and his right cheek was bruised and swollen. His arms lay on top of the blankets and, like him, both his wrists were wrapped. A rustle of starched fabric and he was getting the same quiet, concise, report but before they moved away Goniff shifted in the bed and opened his eyes.

"'ey, Warden… You alright, then?"

"Fine, Goniff."

"We was lucky, wasn't we?" The cockney said with a yawn.

"We sure were," he agreed.

"Chiefy get the window?"

Garrison glanced at the opposite corner at the end of the room and saw the group's scout sleeping in a bed next to the only window. "Yes, he did."

The little pickpocket's eyes drifted closed, "Good. 'e'll like that."

They rolled on and came to a stop next to the youngest member of his team. The bed was more elaborate. A box frame had been added and gave it the appearance of a canopy. A trapeze hung from a bar over the head of the bed while a sling had been added to the end to cradle the cast that encased his right lower leg. The young man slept soundly; unusual for him and unsettling for Garrison. He turned his head to listen as the nurse ran through the injuries and then added the doctor had used a dose of morphine on him… that explained the deep sleep.

They made their way to the last bed in the room. She leaned down and delivered her report. A mild concussion, broken ribs and lacerations over both knees… He reached out and pulled the blanket up over his second's chest and shoulder and silently gave thanks to which ever guardian angel had been watching over them.

"All right," she said as she started him backwards to the door. "Back to bed with you."

Against the wishes of stiffening muscles he turned and looked up at her. "I'd rather stay in here."

She stopped and smiled down on him. "I'm afraid that's against the rules, Lieutenant. Unless it's a specialty ward we don't house officers and enlisted men together."

"But…"

She cut him off before he could explain that his men had never signed enlistment papers. "You remember that trouble you were so worried about? I'd get in all kinds of it if I did what you're asking."

And at that he turned back around in the chair and surrendered. Getting himself in trouble with authorities was one thing, but someone else… He'd have to find another way.

g

She took him back to his room and saw to it that he was settled back in his bed. She fluffed the pillows like an expert and tucked the blankets in before switching off the light and bidding him a good night. Thirty minutes later she opened the door to check on him and the light from the hall reflected off open eyes. Twenty minutes later it was the same even though there were deep lines of fatigue and growing discomfort etched around them. Ten minutes later she was back with the wheelchair.

"Come on, Lieutenant. Let's go."

"But I thought you said…"

"I did." She smiled as she draped the robe around him again. "But I'll be off shift before anyone finds out." She shrugged. "And then I have a three day pass."

She quietly backed him into the room and up to the bed in the near corner to the right of the door. A lamp, switched on low, was on the bedside table and curtains had been pulled out to provide a little privacy. She pushed the curtains back out of the way after she saw him settled and then turned for the door, one of her shoes making a little squeak as she walked.

With her hand on the knob she turned. "I probably won't see you again, so, Happy New Year, Lieutenant," and her heart skipped at the smile he flashed back to her.

"Happy New Year to you too, and…, thanks."

g

When she looked in at the end of her shift all of them were sound asleep.


End file.
